TRAVELANDLEISURE.COM 119
PHOTO CREDIT TEEKAY
A Culinary
Tour of Israel
Jerusalem
Celebrated Lina (fb.com/lina
1hummus; entrées $3–$6) is
a must for hummus, while
Ofaimme Farm (ofaimme.
com; entrées $8–$17)
offers farm-fresh produce.
Majda (majda.co.il; entrées
$24–$37), just outside the
city, marries Arab and Jewish
culinary traditions, and at
Machneyuda (machneyuda.
co.il; entrées $21–$44),
chefs whip up a new menu
daily. For old-school glamour,
the hotel King David (dan
hotels.com; doubles from
$575) is still the place to be.
Akko
Uri Jeremias’s restaurant
Uri Buri (HaHagana St.; 972-4-
955-2212; entrées $15–$39)
is reason enough to visit this
Mediterranean seaside city.
Bed down at the chef’s Efendi
Hotel (efendi hotel.com; dou-
bles from $320), which has
views of the water.
Tel Aviv
The city’s most talked-about
hot spot is Abie (fb.com/
abie.restaurant; entrées $23–
$30). In and around Carmel
Market, visit M25 (m25meat.
co.il; entrées $11–$22) and
Shimon, the King of Soups
(28 Yehya Kapah St.; entrées
$12–$13). Go to HaKosem
(falafel hakosem.com; entrées
$3–$11) for unrivaled falafel,
North Abraxas (fb.com/north
abraxass; entrées $11–$51)
for beautiful, inventive food,
and Guetta (fb.com/gueta.
restaurant.tlv; entrées
$11–$15) for a Libyan feast.
Stay in the John Pawson–
designed Jaffa (the jaffa hotel.
com; doubles from $600).
Travel Advisor
To plan a trip, consult
Joseph Yudin (joe@touring
israel.com; 877-778-8644),
founder of Touring Israel
(touring israel.com) and a
member of T+L’s A-List of the
world’s top travel advisors.
“My brother and I began with a poetic dream: we wanted
to eat a watermelon in the warm desert wind,” Offaim said.
“For a time, our business grew very large, and, worried that
we had lost the dream, we remade our model. This food
is proof that it is possible to create a sustainable, socially
responsible farm in the desert.”
The humble simplicity of this would stay with us as we
traveled the country. We arrived one afternoon at Majda,
in the hills just outside Jerusalem, a tiny paradise created by
a pair of talented chefs. Yaakov Barhum is Muslim; his wife,
Michal Baranes, Jewish. The lunch they served was delicious
proof that it is possible for all the traditions of this embattled
country to mingle on a single table. Astonishingly delicate
sardine balls were bathed in a sauce of cherry tomatoes,
fennel seeds, and arak. Couscous with lamb and squash sat
next to shish barak, the classic Middle Eastern meat-stuffed
dumplings in yogurt. As the meal ended, we retired to
the shaded gazebo for rose-petal-strewn pastries. Karlitz
watched us, a little smile playing across his face.
Another moment. We had journeyed north to Akko,
in Western Galilee, one of the most beautiful cities in the
world. The sea dominates the landscape—you are never far
from it—and as we walked the sunbaked streets the call
of the muezzin echoed off stone walls. Akko is steeped in
history; in antiquity most of the important world powers
vied for dominion there. Today the city is notable for its
multiculturalism: we visited a stand run by a veiled woman
selling za’atar, then headed next door to the kosher butcher.
This is a place where Jews, Muslims, Christian Arabs,
Druze, Bedouins, and Baha’is live and work side by side.
Uri Jeremias, a rosy-cheeked chef with a long white
beard, led us through the cobblestoned streets of the
market. His restaurant, Uri Buri, is a local landmark, and
there is no one he does not know. He stopped at a dusty
spice stand where the proprietor opened jar after jar.
Scents leaped into the air: Cardamom! Pepper! Cinnamon
from Madagascar! “Look!” Jenn Louis held up a large
dried bud. “This is what sumac looks like.” The intensity
of the spices was intoxicating, and we all embarked
on a wild buying spree.
“Hurry!” said Chef Uri, herding us on to his fishmonger.
He picked up an anchovy, its scales flashing silver, gutted
and skinned it with bare hands, added a bit of salt, and offered
up the fillet. “The best anchovy you will ever have,” he
crooned. Nobody disputed him.
It was nearing midnight in Jerusalem as we finished a
manic dinner at Machneyuda restaurant. As the meal ended,
the entire staff came boiling out of the kitchen, singing,
chanting, banging on pots as they marched around the
restaurant, urging us to dance on the tables. Did the chefs
comply? Do you need to ask?
“What now?” Eden asked, leaping off the table; she was
always the first for fun. We spread (Continued on page 131)
